A Thread to Sanity
by Argent1
Summary: Silmarillion Based. Maglor and Maedhros debate the taking of the sons of Elwing at Sirion.


Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien. I just borrow them. 

Argent.

**A Thread to Sanity.******

© M.H.

     Maglor rushed through the halls of the house of Eärendil and Elwing. Finally. Finally, the madness would lessen if not end. A Silmaril was close. He could feel it. The bane of his people, the sorrow of his life, the driver of this insanity. 

     Maglor burst through the door to see Elwing hunched over two identical figures. One of them screamed at the sight. Maglor took a step into the room, "Elwing. Give it to me. Please. End this. Give it to me."

     Maglor noticed the two boys hush at the sound of his fair voice. It was not a voice they would associate with one of the monsters destroying their homes.

     Elwing shook her head taking a step back with a cry, "Nay! I shall not, Kinslayer!" she hissed, "Son of Feanor!" 

     Maglor felt the words stab through his heart. "Don't let this madness go on. Give it to me and I shall leave you to your sons. I implore you!"

     Elwing shook her head. She glanced to her sons, the memory of what had happened to her own two brothers burning her mind. She cast a sorrowful glance towards the twin boys and took another step back.

     Maglor's eyes widened "Don't!" his eyes darting between the frozen young Peredhil and the elf taking ever small steps now towards the edge of the grand balcony.

     Elwing hesitated as Maglor took a step back. "Come back. I shall not move." He hoped to reason with her. This war had gnawed the recesses of his mind. He could not stand another killing. It was ironic though, since his shiny mail was black with dried blood. Maglor allowed himself a margin to relax as Elwing froze. Not going towards him, but not backing up either. 

     The twin boys started to edge towards their mother and Maglor let them. He thought to sooth her with her boys' presence. He was about to speak when his plan crumbled. 

     Maedhros burst through the hallways. "Maglor!" he chastised at seeing his frozen brother in the same room with a silmaril and his brother not seizing it. Maedhros ran forward like one possessed. For indeed he was possessed by their father's fire and oath. 

     Elwing gave a cry and ran back without a second glance and into the sea. Both brothers gave cries of protest. Maedhros throwing his sword aside to try and catch her with his left hand nearly falling after her if not for Maglor's grip to his collar hauling him back. "It is lost." Maglor whispered in sorrow. They were so close. So CLOSE!

     Maedhros whirled around to yell at his brother, eyes nearly glowing with the fire of madness and battle lust. But whatever he was to say was lost to the wind as a cry of fear sounded from Maedhros' sudden movement. As if in a trance both sons of Feanor turned to the source. 

     The twin boys.

     Maglor could see sanity overtake the madness in Maedhros' eyes as he gazed at the two youngsters, who were frozen with terror, his eyes glazed with sorrow. "Amrod and Amras have fallen." He said in a hollow voice. The image of the dark haired two sparking the images of his fallen fire haired youngest brothers. 

     Maglor felt a stab of pain in his heart and lent against the wall. Too drained to even spark a song of sorrow for the two. He had raised them. They were his responsibility. Even as Caranthir, Curufin and Celegorm had been Maedhros'. 

     "We cannot leave the little ones here." Maglor's eyes implored Maedhros. 

     "We have lost their uncles…" Maglor started to try and reason with his brother. 

     Maedhros cut through sharply, " * I * lost their uncles." 

     Maglor whispered, "Will you take the nephews then?"

     Maedhros' eyes flashed with something unrecognizable. "Nay. Leave them."

     Maglor's eyes widened, "You would say that?! You who delayed our leave of Doriath to look for the uncles?! You who chastised the servants of our Celegorm for the order to loose them?!"

     Maedhros screamed, "Enough! I said leave them! Have you had not enough of sorrow!" the yell resounded through the room and hallways, then Maedhros added more quietly, "of loss? Dear brother, we would surely lose these just as we attach ourselves to them. Would you go through that again? You had lost Amrod and Amras this eve. Your Ambarussa. You would replace them this easy?"

     Maglor didn't even try to stop the tears from flowing through his eyes. "We lost our last two brothers this eve. Aye. The uncles we could not find. Aye. We have caused and gone through much sorrow. Aye. But these young ones had lost their mother. By our hand Maedhros. I cannot…. I cannot leave them. I know how to raise them. I raised our brothers. I would raise them. Mayhap raising them will give me a thread to sanity." As he spoke his voice got higher and more hysterical, "I feel like I am loosing my mind! I cannot go on like this! I must do something! No matter how small! Something that would not press another black note onto the song of my life! I NEED THIS. I cannot and would not survive the guilt of this! We have lost two halves of a soul this night. I would not cause another two halves of a same soul to be lost without trying."

     Maedhros' eyes softened slightly. He threw his sword to the ground a second time to cup his brother's cheek gently to calm and comfort. Maglor was shaking madly, his eyes bright with tears, his voice fair with grief. 

     "I would not take them brother, but you take them if you wish it." Maedhros glanced towards the two figures huddled in the corner in shock and fear. "Though do not take long. We cannot afford the wait to win them over that we did at Doriath."

     Maglor closed his eyes leaning his cheek onto the fire hot palm. His brother drew him into an embrace which he accepted but was too drained to return. "Thank you." whispered Maglor.

     Maedhros did not answer. He released Maglor. "I shall tend to our brothers' remains and come for you. With or without the little ones, we leave then." Maglor nodded numbly as Maedhros took up his sword and left the room to leave a shoulder hunched Maglor with two terrified boys. 

     The only reason he agreed for his brother to take the boys was to preserve his only remaining brother's sanity. He, Maedhros himself, was nearly mad with grief at the loss of the other five. This one he would not lose so easily. Though he had a feeling, lose him he would, eventually. 

FIN.


End file.
